The courage to BE resides in the God who arrives when God disappears; the 'I' that arrives when 'I' disappears.

Catalyst

I’m going to enact a spiritual sex scenario. She understands energy. And she understands the power of the Will in manifesting reality. When I speak of it, it’s as if the knowledge unlocks within her. It doesn’t matter who she is. It could be anyone, and that’s kind of the point. She understands my intent, and this is all that is needed. A trusting in each other’s purpose. We alight candles as a mark of the spark of life. We kindle incense as a sign of the aroma of pleasure.

I have images of divinity laid out before me, and whether she believes in them or not, her adventurousness exhilarates her curiosity. She sits before me in lotus pose as I visualise the Goddess saturate her through her crown and I prompt her to do likewise. We meditate in this way, playful, with sweet acquiescence, until we can see none else but the inner divinity within each other’s eyes. This is an act of prayer, a devotion, a humbling, a surrender, a privilege, a reverential act of bliss, an offering.

This is in its totality about living with the grace of the divine, of proclaiming to the Universe a deep belief in its natural goodness. This is not about our personal dreams, our limited ideas of what we are. This is about worship, not of each other, but of the goodness within us. The goodness to which we humble ourselves, because we can never own it. And as we make love, we know fully, by what we see in our eyes, that we can never own this bliss. So, we offer it onto the Goddess.

In intimate transcendence, with benign joviality, incorruptible diligence, we forget ourselves. It is vital to forget ourselves, lest our false desires block the purity of the love surging through our every cell. Giving and taking becomes one and whole. Lust disappears into oblivion. The pantomime of worldly lovemaking seems insignificant… for in the world, we only make love to each other’s ego, strengthening them. But here and now, we love the Universe itself – and this consuming act begins to instill a lasting humility into our psyche.

With ardent transparency, the Goddess flourishes a contagious flux of freedom into our hearts. Like zephyr, it chisels at our delusory fantasies with austere sensuality. Disposing false dreams, replacing them with tantamount, permeating, joy. So harmonised, our energy turns inexhaustible, accessing an infinite core of dazzling illumination. We make love for hours on end, timing our carresses by the strength of the flame of divinity – like air stroking the fire to a lustrous height. The plethora of our offerings… hardly savoring a drop, but presenting it with bowed head to the will of the cosmos, seems to only return tenfold… the surge of energy, ceaseless bliss.

The pulse of the thunder-touch, triggering ancient secrets. The glory of the lovebites, as if the earlobe of the galaxy is being nibbled with delicious throbs of excitement. The swooning brush of air upon the brow, celestial kisses of the the Goddess herself. The burying of teeth upon the insatiable layers of her neck… every act unraveling in graceful dance. Primal when it feels primal, celestial when it feels celestial. Both animal and divine… tamed only by the dance. We make love under an invisible shower of raindrops. We make love in a creative abundance of which we thought ourselves never capable. Only the bliss stands as witness.

By the conclusion, we realise the utterly unemotional nature of spiritual sex. That its very meaningfulness relies on an alleviating offering. That a true meaningful sex rests on a surrendering to the oneness, not of each other, but of the totality. Awestruck, we lie with magnified solemnity, electrified, satiated yet surging with energy. Food for the inner essence. Strengthening the flame of life. Purifying the soul. In simple terms, that lovemaking was in every way a grand thank you to the Universe. Not for bringing two lost souls together. Not for bringing existence to our ideas of a perfect life. Such things come and go. Even soulmates come and go. Soulmate sex pales in comparison, like a dark cloud masking the moon. No, it is because thank you is the eternal lovesong of creation. Very little is as meaningful, nor instills purpose into our being. Pure purpose. A spiritual catalyst.